


As You Go

by dracoqueen22



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, M/M, To Be Continued?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 05:02:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2336240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/pseuds/dracoqueen22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sunstreaker was barely strong enough for himself. He couldn't bear the burdens of another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As You Go

**Author's Note:**

> For tf_rare_pairing weekly request prompt of Sunstreaker/Rodimus, leave the past behind

At the sound of the chime, Sunstreaker knew who it was, beyond a shadow of a doubt. Who else would come visit Sunstreaker, the traitor? Who else would seek him out when all the rest were recovering in their hab-suites?  
  
No one but the mech who had given Sunstreaker permission to come on this ill-fated journey in the first place.  
  
Sunstreaker debated ignoring the ping. He could feign ignorance or recharge. But that would only forestall the inevitable. Better to say his piece now before circumstances dragged it out.  
  
Sunstreaker rose from the berth and Bob stirred from recharge, multiple optics blinking on with a dim glow. He tilted his helm, making as if to rise.  
  
“None of your business,” Sunstreaker informed him, flicking a hand at the Insecticon to encourage him to return to sleep.  
  
Bob stared at him before snuffling and settling. His antennae, however, remained perked. He was anything but relaxed, remaining on alert. Which was fine, so long as he didn't attack.  
  
The door chimed again. Sunstreaker grumbled subvocally at the impatience but then, he should have known. He hit the keypad, granting entrance.  
  
“Rodimus,” Sunstreaker greeted as the flame-painted mech – _captain_ – strode inside. Blue optics were fever-bright as though with hunger, and Rodimus' field was a jittered mess. Again, unsurprising.  
  
They'd had a rocky start, the _Lost Light_ and it's hopeful journey. Small wonder that Rodimus was already rattled.  
  
Rodimus huffed, his plating flared. “Do you have to call me that?”  
  
“It's who you are.” The door slid shut as Sunstreaker turned to face Rodimus, careful to keep his distance.  
  
Not that Rodimus noticed or cared. He closed the space in a sparkbeat, so close, too close, the hot scent of him achingly familiar. Sunstreaker almost reached out before he stopped himself.  
  
“Not yet,” Rodimus was saying, his engine purring with promise.  
  
Sunstreaker clamped his plating down, refusing to respond to the seeking tendrils of desire. He remembered, oh how did he remember, how good it was with Hot Rod. How good it could be again. His resolve remained strong.  
  
“But from now on.” Sunstreaker lifted his hand, not to beckon, but to plant it on Rodimus' chestplate, covering the Autobrand with his palm.  
  
The space between them was a footstep. It might as well have been a chasm.  
  
Rodimus faltered, the erratic edges of his field flattening as confusion took precedence. “When did that start mattering?”  
  
Sunstreaker flinched, because he read in those words, murmured conversations in the aftermath, when they should have been recharging but were instead, content to be near, together, focused only on each other.  
  
“Things are different. I am... You are...” Sunstreaker broke off, frustrated.  
  
He hadn’t need the Machination or Hunter to break him. He was already a mess. They only made it worse.  
  
“We can't be what we were,” Sunstreaker finished, but not before his pause turned awkward and his spark clenched with disappointment.  
  
Rodimus drew in a sharp vent. His hands pulled into fists.  
  
“Why?” he demanded, because he didn't understand and as of late, neither did Sunstreaker. He was just doing what needed to be done.  
  
Two wrongs couldn't make a right. Two broken things couldn't fix each other. Sunstreaker was barely strong enough for himself. He couldn't bear the burdens of another.  
  
He was a coward.  
  
“Because I can't be what you need,” Sunstreaker said.  
  
He braced himself. He was not disappointed.  
  
The anger, when it struck, hurt more than a physical blow. Sunstreaker bore it and the sudden withdrawal of Rodimus' field from his.  
  
Sunstreaker lowered his hand, drawing his fingers inward. Sense-memory captured and stored the last feel of Rodimus' plating, the heat of him, the strong thrum of his spark.  
  
“If you do this, there's no turning back,” Rodimus said, vocals hard, cold to hide the pain. Beneath the warning was a plea.  
  
Sunstreaker hardened himself to it. “I know.”  
  
Something in Rodimus' face shifted, harsh as a commander ought to be, but Hot Rod never had been.  
  
“Fine.” Rodimus spat out the concession and shoved past Sunstreaker, their shoulders scraping with a _skritch_ of metal and paint transfers.  
  
The apology lingered on Sunstreaker's vocalizer but he kept it to himself. He watched Rodimus go without a backward glance, the door sliding shut with a click. His hab-suite was left in silence, broken only by the soft clatter of his plating.  
  
Rodimus would go to Drift, probably. An equally bad decision but it was no longer Sunstreaker's business. He'd surrendered that responsibility.  
  
Convincing himself he'd done the right thing would take longer.  
  
Sunstreaker cycled a ventilation. He purposefully did not access the memories that jostled for dominance in his core.  
  
Bob nudged his leg. Sunstreaker looked down at him, multiple optics blinking back up with concern.  
  
Sunstreaker offered a crooked smile and crouched, hand gently resting on Bob's head. The Insecticon butted up against it, demanding pets.  
  
“It's just you and me now,” Sunstreaker said.  
  
Bob nuzzled his hand, purrs vibrating his frame. He'd only ever been tolerant of Hot Rod as it was.  
  
The hurt would go away eventually. And this? Would only be one more ache on top of a slew of scars. Sunstreaker would survive.  
  
He always did.  
  


***

**Author's Note:**

> Posting this separate from Database in Transmission just in case I do end up expanding on it. Because I never really know... :)


End file.
